


Patching Up

by danceswithhamsters01



Series: 14 Days of Dragon Age Lover's prompts, 2020 edition [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Crushes, F/M, Healing, Magic, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22675435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01
Summary: From the 14 Days of Dragon Age Lover's prompts list!#8: Patching up.This takes place pre-relationship. Sevarra Amell offers to heal Zevran's wound.
Relationships: Female Amell/Zevran Arainai, Zevran Arainai/Female Warden
Series: 14 Days of Dragon Age Lover's prompts, 2020 edition [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631200
Kudos: 10





	Patching Up

He winced as the needle went through flesh and carried the thread through to the other side, bringing the edges of the skin one stitch closer together. A soft but astonished voice broke his concentration.

“Maker’s breath, Zevran. Why are you stitching your own wound? There are three mages here! And even if you didn’t want to trust one of us with patching you up, I’m more than certain Leliana or Rory wouldn’t say no to helping you!”

He looked up at the source of the voice. Ah, yes. The female Warden, the mage. Sevarra stood with hands on her hips, as if trying to make her small and delicate stature somewhat more imposing.

“I suspect Morrigan would sooner turn me into a toad than bother using a healing spell on me, my dear Warden.”

His reply drew an amused snort in response. “And what about Wynne? Or does she frighten you, as well?”

“Frighten me? You wound me, Warden! I am afraid of nothing! It is just that the prospect of being close to such a magical bosom and yet be denied the comfort of laying upon it would be far more than my poor heart could endure!” he said with a wink.

The raven-haired mage gave a snort-laugh and shook her head. She sank to her knees beside him, near the arm that had been wounded in combat with the highwaymen earlier. She slid off her leather gloves, exposing hands with skin the color of the moons themselves.

“May I? Unless you’d rather continue your practice at stitching, of course,” she asked with a grin. She inspected his stitches with a practiced eye. “But I suspect you’ve had plenty of practice at this. Your work is as neat as that of the healer who trained me in the Circle.”

He proffered the injured arm, needle and thread still attached. “Be my guest.”

She carefully unthreaded the needle and offered it to him eye-first. The assassin accepted it with a questioning look sent her way.

“Mage, remember?” she said with a lop-sided smile. A soft green light began to gather around her palms. Once her hands were enveloped in the glowing light, she placed them at the top and bottom of the long gash along his upper arm. Her gaze became fixed on the wound as she worked.

Zevran bit back a gasp of surprise as he felt a coolness seep into his skin as the magic wound its way from the surface to the tissues below. Little by little, the slash seemed to seal itself up from the bottom up. He watched raptly as the two sides of torn flesh reunited and knitted themselves together, leaving no hint of the original dagger-inflicted wound. Unblemished bronze skin was all that was left after the Warden finally released him from her grasp. Unless his eyes deceived him, she appeared weary and he noted that her touch had lingered past the spell’s completion; just a handful of heartbeat’s worth of time.

“There, good as new,” she sighed and removed the few stitches he’d made. “At least, I hope so. How do you feel?”

He shifted his mended arm, briefly disappointed at the lack of her touch, flexing and moving it this way and that. It felt as normal as it had when he woke up that morning. He flashed a smile her way. “As you say, ‘good as new.’ Thank you, dear Warden.”

“Y-you’re welcome,” she said softly, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. A soft smile spread across her mouth before she rose and went to her tent.

If anyone noticed the hint of a smile on his mouth, they wisely made no comment on it.


End file.
